


As Always

by 4vrAFangirl



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Brief Danarius (Dragon Age), Fluff and Angst, Inquisitor Fenris (Dragon Age), M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:29:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8633596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4vrAFangirl/pseuds/4vrAFangirl
Summary: Someone is always watching. Which makes it a risk, but to the Void with that. It's been months now since the last time he's seen him, since the last time he was able to touch him, to hold him. The mage has barely turned around before the elf has all but pounced on him, earning a chuckle from Varric, who steps back to give them a little space and what privacy they can afford. He could never forget, won't allow himself to lose this the way he did his past before Danarius, but venhedis he's missed his mouth, these lips, the slight bite of stubble and tickle of his beard against his jaw...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? I write for all manner of fandoms and ships! Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [4vrafangirl](http://www.4vrafangirl.tumblr.com)

"He supported the _mages_? Declared them allies?"

"Yeah. Wasn't exactly the decision I was expecting from him either. Figured Broody would be more in favor of the Templars to restore order, not that he'd ever let them lay a finger on you," the elf hears Varric saying shaking his head, as he descends the stairs to the place on the battlements where the two men are waiting for him. "They seem good for it though; eager to prove themselves. Sealed the breach in Haven well enough. The Inquisition is their only ally left, they don't dare disappoint now."

Someone's sure to be watching.

It's the reason why it had been too risky for him to write anything to his lover himself, but he trusts the dwarf when he assured him he hadn't read any of the untidy notes he's passed on to him to include in his own letters he'd been sneaking out of the Keep. Or at least that the dwarf is intelligent enough not to use any of it for any future books. Not that his scribblings are nearly good enough for that anyway. He knows they're not terribly eloquent, perhaps not even all that romantic, but he also knows about the box Hawke keeps under his bed with every note the elf has ever given him, including the embarrassingly illegible, oft-misspelled ones from when he'd first started teaching him to read and write. His penmanship has improved at least.

Someone is _always_ watching.

Which makes it a risk, but to the Void with that. It's been months now since the last time he's seen him, since the last time he was able to touch him, to hold him. The mage has barely turned around before the elf has all but pounced on him, earning a chuckle from Varric, who steps back to give them a little space and what privacy they can afford. He could never forget, won't allow himself to lose this the way he did his past before Danarius, but _venhedis_ he's missed his mouth, these lips, the slight bite of stubble and tickle of his beard against his jaw...

_I love you._

It's not until the other man is pulling away, much to his frustration, eyes wide, mouth gaping, then suddenly laughing that the elf realizes he's said the words aloud.

"So this is what it takes for you to say it? Just a demons falling from a giant hole in the sky. Only the end of the world," Hawke chuckles, shaking his head. Fenris scowls, even as the elf is internally kicking himself. Part of him is inclined to agree- _really after everything they've been through together and all these years what had he been waiting for?_ Another, slightly louder, maybe a little defensive part desperately fighting to argue- _he's said it long before now in a hundred other ways._

"I know, Fenris," Hawke soothes softly, a warm, slightly calloused hand reaching up to cup the elf's cheek. "I've always known," he assures him softly, hand shifting to brush over the shaved part of his head and push the longer hair out of the way to kiss his temple. "But, for the record? It wouldn't have mattered if you'd never said it," he promises. "I am yours as always," Hawke whispers, the words- _his own words-_ a whisper against his ear, warm breath forcing him to fight the urge to shudder beneath it. "But thank you. It was nice to hear," the mage smiles, and the elf sags ever so slightly against him because _he knows. Of course, he knows,_ the elf thinks relieved all the same, _that it was never uncertainty or lack of feeling preventing him saying those particular words.  
_

For all that they have shared there are still some aspects, some experiences while he was Danarius' slave they haven't talked about. Perhaps the mage doesn't think he remembers. Some of it it's true, the elf seems to have been blessed to forget, but now and again a certain touch or turn of phrase brings it rushing back, and he's forced to fight down the image of that wicked sneer, the hungry gleam in his master's pale eyes, his commands.

 _Tell me_ , the older man had demanded, not because he genuinely wished for the elf's affection Fenris realizes now, but simply as another sign of having broken him. Still, Fenris had- in Tevene, in Trade, Qunari, in every language he knew, hoping that maybe they would be enough, that the words might earn him a little respite if he could hope for nothing better. He'd actually believed them, thought he meant them once. Thought that if only he could love and prove loyal, useful enough, perhaps Danarius would be gentler to him. But even when he wasn't, he was still- at least so far as Fenris could recall- the only one who cared about or would have him. It's only later, while he's recovering amongst the Fog Warriors-hearing and seeing a very different sort of affection that the words seem suddenly bitter. That he realizes he probably never truly understood the words. Even if he had, he realizes while he flees from Danarius and what he's done, they were never what his master had actually wanted from him, they wouldn't have been enough.

But Hawke didn't need the words. Never had. Three years of waiting, hoping maybe one day he might come back. Then twice that many together and he'd still never heard it. Not implicitly. But he'd never complained. Never pushed. Fenris was enough without them. _And something about that thought..._ he wraps his arms tight around the other man, mindful that his gauntlets don't bite into the mage's back as he grasps for purchase against the mage's robes, for something to cling to, something solid, tangible, to reassure him that this is real, that he is here, and make sure he stays. Big strong arms wrap around and pull him in until he's flush against the other's chest, can hear his lover's heartbeat-slow and reassuringly steady, head tucked beneath the taller man's chin.

Slowly the elf lets out a long and shaky breath, lifting large green eyes to meet incredibly the fond and patient brown ones that stare back at him.

"I love you," he whispers softly-this time on purpose, as Hawke chases after the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of the elf's mouth with his own.


End file.
